


The Best Reason to Get Hurt

by maybeillcomebackoneday



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillcomebackoneday/pseuds/maybeillcomebackoneday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a week, a week of pain and torture and sleepless nights. A week since Bruce and Joel had been pulled off the streets after a heist. A week since they had seen the rest of the crew.<br/>-<br/>(There's a slightly more descriptive warning inside.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Reason to Get Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has mentions and aftermath of torture. It's never shown, buts its discussed a lot.

It had been a week, a week of pain and torture and sleepless nights. A week since Bruce and Joel had been pulled off the streets after a heist. A week since they had seen the rest of the crew.

The people who did this to them wanted to know two things: the location of their safe-houses, and the location of their most elusive crew member: Matt Peake. Peake hadn’t been a part of that heist, and he was probably hiding out now.

So far, Joel had taken the brunt of their “interrogation.” They had assumed Joel’s less-traditionally-masculine demeanor was a cover for weakness, and they had assumed that Bruce would give up that information to keep Joel from harm.

They were wrong on both counts.

But after a week, it was starting to wear them down: Joel physically and Bruce mentally. There was nothing Bruce could do that would keep Joel safe. They had beaten most of Joel’s torso, which was now dark and mottled with bruises. They had then cut over the bruised skin, leaving open wounds across his chest and back. This had gone on for four days: a vicious cycle of beating and cutting. It ached and stung and made practically any movement painful. Three days ago, things had changed, for the worse. They had “softened him up”, or beaten him to a pulp, before breaking his left arm. The next day it was several of the fingers on his left hand, one at a time. Today it had been his right leg, broken at the shin.

Joel was thrown into the cell that he shared with Bruce. He crumpled to the ground, unable to hold his weight up.

“We should tell them,” Bruce said immediately, not meeting Joel’s eyes.

“Why?” Joel replied, using the palm of his right hand to push himself up. “I’m fine and-”

“Fine? You can’t even stand up!” Bruce pushed off the ground to go help Joel sit against the wall.

“Because they broke my leg, not petty injuries! And besides, the others will be here soon.”

He met Joel’s eyes. “How can you be sure?” Bruce asked, leaving the words ‘Are you willing to bet your life that?’ unsaid. Joel heard them anyway.  
“Have they ever let us down before?”

“No, but we’ve been here a full week now! It’s never been that long before!” Bruce was shouting now. “We can’t know how long we’ll be here! And-” Bruce cut himself off.

“And what?”

Bruce turned away, “Nothing.”

Joel felt anger flare up in his aching chest. “Don’t think I can take it??” Joel yelled back. “Because I think I’ve done a pretty fucking decent job so far!”

“I know you have! That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying?!”

“That I can’t see you get hurt anymore!” Bruce shouted, meeting his eyes again. Joel thought he saw tears in his eyes, but he could never be sure.

Joel’s anger faltered and died on his lips, “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce snapped, looking away firmly. “I’m going to sleep. You should too.” He curled up his body in the corner of the cell, facing the wall. He didn’t move and then slowly drifted off.

Had he been able to walk, Joel would’ve gone to Bruce. But right now he just wanted to sleep. The “questioning” would undoubtedly start again in the morning, and he needed the rest. He didn’t even try to lie down on the lacerations and bruises on his torso. And his broken limbs didn’t really didn’t approve of moving. Lying on his side hurt the least, but Joel was could never sleep on his side. It left him with the option of sitting up against the freezing wall. The floor was cold too, but the walls were somehow colder.

He looked over to where Bruce had curled up in the opposite corner. He hadn’t moved since their argument a few hours ago.  
Joel knew Bruce needed to sleep too. So Joel resolved to not wake him. He turned to place his right shoulder up against the wall. The only real place to put his head was up against the wall. The position wasn’t too bad; the wall was just fucking cold. It didn’t help that his shirt had been practically obliterated over the last few days. Bruce had offered his, but Joel knew that Bruce’s shirt would just get destroyed too.

But he really was exhausted. And even with the chill of concrete pressing against his face and arm, sleep eventually caught up with him. No more than ten minutes later, his shoulder began to slide.  
Joel woke with a jolt as he fell over completely, landing flat on his injured back. Being torn from sleep, he couldn’t hide his shout of agony. Bruce jolted upright, turning to face the source of the sound.

“Holy crap, what happened?” Bruce shouted, surprised and very disoriented.

Joel winced and pushed himself back up, finding he was facing Bruce, “I fell over in my sleep like a dumbass. No big deal.”

“Wait how?”

“I was just sitting up. I can’t really lay down like… this,” he replied, gesturing to his mutilated skin. Joel leaned his right shoulder back against the wall.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself trying to sleep like that.”

“Everything hurts no matter what I do,” Joel pointed out.

Bruce got up and sat back down beside Joel. He leaned his back, which was still protected by a shirt, against the wall. “Here, lean against me.”  
Joel kept his shoulder against the wall and leaned forward so his head rested on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce shook his head. “No, like put your shoulder against me.” Joel nodded. Bruce helped Joel move so his shoulder was leaning against his arm. He turned his torso slightly away from the wall, and leaned his shoulder against Bruce’s arm. It put Joel at the perfect angle to be able to lay his head on Bruce’s shoulder. He stretched his legs out to keep him from sliding down without agitating his right leg, and he gingerly rested his useless left arm on his lap.

They were quiet for a minute.

“I should have a safeword,” Joel decided, half asleep.

“What?”

“I should have some word that, if I say it, you talk. That way it’s my choice. You don’t blame yourself for holding out, and I can stop things it gets too bad.”

Bruce nodded.

Joel continued when Bruce didn’t say anything more, “I’m sorry I snapped at you before.”

“I get it. You’re tired and hurt and I was being an asshole.”

“You’re kinda under more pressure than I am. Sometimes it’s easier to let bad things happen to yourself than to somebody else. To be perfectly honest, I’m glad it’s me getting hurt.”

Bruce scoffed. “Yeah well I wish it was me.”

“This isn’t my first tango,” Joel joked, a half-hearted smile pulling at his lips. “People read me as weak and queer. And, well, they’re half right.”

Bruce laughed softly in return, trying hard to ignore the tiny flicker of hope in his stomach at Joel’s implication. He logically knew Joel was bi, but it didn’t come up much. When his laugher died down, he settled with a small smile on his face. “We should sleep. You sound exhausted.” Joel nodded against his teammate’s shoulder. Bruce could feel Joel’s curly hair gently brush against his shoulder and neck, and his unshaved stubble brush against his arm. He leaned closer.

Joel took a slow deep breath before speaking again. This time his tone lacked humor. “If they kill me-“

“Nope,” Bruce interrupted softly.

“I was just going to say-“

“Nope. I’m not letting you talk like that,” Bruce said without raising his voice, but with no room for argument in his tone. “Now sleep.”

Within moments, Joel felt sleep pulling at him. He was still freezing and aching, but next to Bruce, he at least felt safe. The men outside their cell were less terrifying with Bruce beside him. Joel blinked a few times before closing his eyes and giving into sleep.

Bruce hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet, but watched as the tension faded from Joel’s battered body. They had to get out of here. But there was nothing he could do about that now. He pressed a tiny kiss to Joel’s forehead. It was a promise, and a way to repay him for all the times Joel had saved the crew. He leaned his head against Joel’s and fell asleep.

——

As the sky began to brighten through the tiny window in the top of the cell, an impressively loud commotion came from outside the cell. There was gunfire and screaming, and Joel jolted upright at the sound. He grabbed Bruce’s hand on instinct alone.

Then things went quiet. There was suddenly nothing, just the ringing in their ears.

Neither of them wanted to make a noise, not knowing who had been shooting outside and how the conflict had ended.

Joel leaned close to Bruce and whispered, “Inside Gaming.”

“Huh?” Bruce replied almost silently.

“That’s the word. Go ahead and talk if I mention IG.”

Bruce heard a key slide into the lock on the door, and he gripped Joel’s hand tighter. He readied himself to fight on the chance that the person at the door was hostile.

The door finally swung open, but the glaring light of the hallway obscured the figure in the doorway. For a moment, nobody moved.

“Guys, I found them!” the figure called out.

Even sleepy and disoriented, they both knew that distinctly calm voice. “Peake?” Joel asked.

Matt stepped fully into the room. Lawrence rushed in after him, going to kneel before Bruce and Joel.

Adam’s voice came in from the hallway, voice getting closer. “Which of them did they hurt?”

“Wait what?” Bruce asked.

Lawrence ignored Bruce for a second and yelled back at Adam, “Joel!”

“Is he okay?” Adam replied, just before running into the room.

“I’m fine,” Joel insisted.

Bruce still wanted to know what Adam meant, “Why did you ask which one of us?”

Peake replied, “They got their hands on all six of you after the heist. They kept you in pairs, torturing one and hoping the other would talk.” They all recognized the anger hiding in his voice. Reading Matt’s emotions wasn’t always easy, but they had gotten good at it.

A panicked though crossed Joel’s mind, “Where are James and Spoole?” Bruce felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Lawrence saw the change in Joel’s eyes. “They’re both okay. They’re at the home recovering now.” None of them could pinpoint when their shared safe-apartment had become home. “James was with Adam, and Spoole was with me.” Lawrence looked Joel over. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Three broken fingers, a broken arm, a broken leg, various cuts and bruises,” Joel said, not sugar-coating the situation. He noticed that he was still holding hands with Bruce.

“That seems like more than ‘various cuts and bruises’ to me,” Adam cut in, seeing the mottled skin through the holes in Joel’s shirt.

“What did they start with?” asked Lawrence.

“The bruises,” Joel explained. “Then the cuts.”

“When did they start breaking bones?” Lawrence continued. It seemed like he was trying to figure something out.

“Three days ago,” Bruce replied immediately.

Peake nodded, “That’s when we got James and Adam out. Lawrence and Sean were already safe.”

Adam continued Matt’s thought, “You were their only shot left, so they made things worse for you.”

“We should get out of here,” Peake said, looking at the exit.

Lawrence and Joel worked out the best way to carry Joel out; bridal style. It wasn’t perfect (Lawrence’s arm against his back ached), but his head was laid on Lawrence’s chest. And it was worth it to be close to him. Bruce could walk, but Adam didn’t want him to walk alone. He offered Bruce his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Matt pulled out his phone. The person on the other end answered on the first ring. Matt started speaking immediately, “They’re both safe, James. They hurt Joel, but he’ll be fine. Just see if you can get a doctor there. He’s gonna need a cast. Maybe 2. But we’re on our way home. See you soon.”

They had left the car just down the street. Peake got into the driver’s seat. The other four filed into the backseat. Lawrence sat on the left; Joel still curled up in his arms. Bruce sat in the middle, and Joel’s legs stretched out across from him.  Adam sat on his right, still holding his hand. Within minutes, Joel fell back asleep, and he relaxed into Lawrence’s arms. Lawrence, without thinking, kissed Joel’s forehead softly.

Bruce leaned close to Adam and whispered in his ear, “How badly hurt are James and Spoole?”

Adam whispered back, “Not as bad as Joel. Nothing broken. They only had James and I for two days. We got Lawrence and Spoole after four.”

“Lawrence asked how did they hurt him. Did they hurt the others in different ways?”

“Yeah. Spoole got burned. First just with cigarettes, matches, and then with hot water. We got him out before anything too bad, but he’s got a few second-degree burns on his arms. It’ll scar, but not much else. James got shocked, mainly with a cattle prod. He’s got some small burns, but nothing else. He was a little shaky for a day or so, but he’s fine now.”

Bruce nodded, “Joel will probably be out of field commission for a bit. But he’ll be fine, long-term. He took it like a fucking champ. We got into a fight about whether we should tell.”

“James was mostly out-of-it for the two days. But he was aware enough to tell me that, if I told, he’d “hate me forever.” And he never got a shock to the head, so there should be no permanent damage.”

Bruce laughed quietly before Lawrence softly added his own story. “Spoole was loud as fuck and complained a lot, but it was his way of dealing. He made sure I knew that.”

Bruce nodded, laying his head on his teammate’s shoulder. Lawrence was always a solid presence, and Bruce was glad to repay the favor.

“They seemed to know that I would hate seeing James in pain,” Adam said.

Lawrence considered for a second, “You are a self-proclaimed people-pleaser. You want to make people happy. Most people know that.”

“They seemed to think that Joel was gonna be easy to crack. They seemed like they were betting on when he’d talk,” Bruce explained. “But he didn’t break once. He was way stronger than they ever expected.”

“Same with Sean. He’s whiny, but he’s stubborn. They didn’t expect that either.”

“I can’t confirm this, but I think James tried to piss them off so they wouldn’t hurt me,” Adam admitted. “He wouldn’t stop laughing, even when they shocked him. It seemed like it was for both our sakes.”

“But we’re all alive. And they’re dead,” Lawrence concluded. The car ride was quiet after that.

——

It took another 30 minutes before they reached the safe-house. James opened the door while they were walking up to the front door. Bruce could see the bandages on his arms and legs that likely hid small electrical burns. James froze at the sight of Joel unconscious body in Lawrence’s arms. His eyes jumped to Matt, who had assured him that Joel was okay.

Lawrence immediately explained, “He’s just sleeping.”

The tension fell off of his shoulders. His eyes found Bruce’s and they moved at the same time to meet on the steps. They always seemed to know what the other would do. Bruce was gentle, but James hugged him back tightly. It was their way to assure they were alive.

After a moment, Lawrence spoke again. “Ok so remember that I am holding an entire person. I’d love to go put him down.”

James pulled away, but didn’t let go of Bruce’s hand. “Yeah, let’s go inside. Spoole is a blanket burrito right now. I promised that I’d bring you guys back.”

Spoole was wrapped in blankets on the couch in the living room.

Denecour, a medic for the Fake AH Crew, was at the kitchen table, ready to assess Joel. She’d brought a wheelchair and enough supplies to treat them all. Lawrence sat him down on the wheelchair beside the table. Joel slowly opened his eyes.

——

It was a couple hours before Denecour finished with Joel. Matt had stayed and helped out however he could. The other five had migrated to the enormous bed in the back room. After a heist, they would all just collapse on to the giant bed and sleep off the adrenaline crash. So they had left a bed big enough for all seven of them.

All the way on the right of the bed, Adam had his arms wrapped around Spoole, his chest gingerly pressed to the burned man’s back. Sean’s bandaged arms were now visible without the shrouding of the blankets. Lawrence was on Spoole’s other side. Their foreheads were pressed together. Lawrence’s legs were tangled with Bruce’s, as they lay back-to-back. Bruce and James lay face to face, curled close together. Their hands were laced together. Bruce had tried to stay awake to help Denecour, but after he fell asleep on the table, he had been put to bed.

Denecour cleared Joel to go lay down with the other Funhaus members.

“Hello, boys,” Joel said with a smile as Denecour pushed the chair over to the bed. All the guys looked up at him. His left arm and right leg were in casts, and his chest was bandaged. But he looked alive.

“Same deal as last night?” Bruce asked, blinking away sleep as he pushed himself up.

Joel nodded. “It’ll probably be more comfortable now, with blankets and pillows and Funhaus.”

“And painkillers,” Bruce joked.

It was understood that when there was a new person (or two, when Peake eventually joined them) added to the pile, they would rearrange. Bruce squeezed James’s hand one more time before sitting up completely. The others moved to allow him to sit upright against the headboard. Joel assumed a familiar position against Bruce’s shoulder and neck. This time, it wasn’t cold. And they weren’t alone. Joel put his legs over Bruce’s lap so his broken leg would be kept out of the way.

Lawrence lay just below Joel’s feet and rested his head against Bruce’s thigh. Spoole pressed himself up in against Lawrence’s chest, his head below Bruce’s lap. On the other side, James lay just below Joel’s hips, Adam tucked into his arms. Adam laid his face on Bruce’s leg, pressing close to him. James’s hand reached up to rest on Joel’s lap. As they settled down, they all looked over to the doorway in time to see Peake walk right by.

“Hey Peake, where are you going?” Adam called after him. Matt turned back around without even pausing.

“To bed.”

‘The bed is here, Peake,” James teased.

“But you guys-”

“There’s plenty of room,” Lawrence added.

“Get over here!” Joel laughed, gesturing to the pile of dudes.

They all started chattering over each other.

Matt spoke up, “But none of you would’ve gotten hurt if it wasn’t for me.”

That stopped the commotion.

“What the fuck?” Bruce asked, confused.

“You’re the only reason any of us got out of there!” James exclaimed, almost laughing.

“You getting away gave us time make them waste time dicking around with us instead of doing whatever they actually wanted us for,” Joel reasoned

“Do you think we blame you?” Lawrence asked, with understanding and kindness in his voice.

Matt didn’t say anything.

“Get the fuck over here,” Spoole insisted, rolling over to face the center of the group.

Adam explained, “We held out to protect you. That’s like the best reason to get hurt.”

Matt walked over to find a perfectly Peake-sized space between Bruce’s legs and Sean’s chest. Matt, who slept on his back, fit well in the gap. Sean laid his arm across Peake’s chest. And then everyone reached out to him. Joel’s hand tangled in his hair. Bruce’s leg pressed close to his side. Adam tangled their legs together. James’s other hand reached across Spoole to rest on his arm. Lawrence gripped Matt’s hand where it rested on Spoole’s side.

It fell quiet as they felt the tension, and hopefully the guilt, leech out of Matt’s body.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Matt finally said. The rest of the group nodded and murmured agreements.

Joel wasn’t sure why he did it; he just felt that he needed to kiss Bruce ASAP.

“Bruce?” he said, hoping Bruce would turn to look at him. Predictably, he did. Before Bruce could give a verbal reply, Joel brushed their lips against each other. Bruce didn’t hesitate in pressing back harder.

What Joel didn’t think of was that now all the eyes in the room were on them.

Lawrence responded first, “God damn it, I wanted first dibs on Joel.”

James started laughing first and the rest followed. Bruce started wheezing and had to break off from Joel, who pouted. That sent the group into another round of hysterics.

When the laughter died out, they fell into a silence that felt like it needed to end.

Adam was the one to do it, “Fuck it.” He leaned over Bruce’s legs and planted a kiss on Peake. Peake shifted so Adam didn’t have to stretch so far, but didn’t respond more than that. Adam understood.

Bruce kissed Joel again, more confident this time.

Spoole turned to look at Lawrence. The two of them moved forward together until they were kissing too. Lawrence could feel Spoole smile against his lips.

“I’ll just wait,” James could barely get through those three words before laughing.

Adam laughed, pulling away from Matt with a parting kiss. He rolled over so he faced James, and kissed him hard. James held the back of Adam’s head, holding them together.

Joel didn’t try to hide his yawn, and laid his head back on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We should probably figure this out in the morning,” Lawrence admitted, pulling back from Sean.

They all agreed.

But it felt easy. Like it was a simple truth they had danced around for years. It felt like coming home.

They slept better that night than they had in what felt like forever.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first finished fic ever??  
> Also thanks to my beta-readers M (got-to-get-that-marchant-booty.tumblr) and Aimee (hausofgreene.tumblr)


End file.
